FRIDAY, MARCH 13, 2009 ... AN AWESOME NIGHT

So how fared Friday, March 13, 2009?

Well -- I returned home at 2 AM or so the following morning, sticky with sweat, lightheaded, legs sore, physically depleted to the point of nearly dozing off in the bathtub.

And with a huge grin on my soul.

To my friends: that was the best time I've had in far too long. Many drinks. Many laughs. Many more ahead, I hope. It's beyond the grasp of my poetic powers to delineate just how awesome a night I considered it to be. So thanks a million, guys.

Hours prior to my first and fingerscrossedfingerscrossed not my last Pogues concert (I wish to Christ, I wish to Christ that I see fifteen more), we walked around The City and visited the Hard Rock Cafe and Planet Hollywood. At Planet Hollywood, I had a picture taken of me standing by a frame containing the vest worn by Matthew Broderick in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I remember someone describing himself as a Cameron who was trying his hardest to be a Ferris.

Same here, man. Same here.

At the Roseland Ballroom, I rocked out like I've never rocked out before. My voice was hoarse only four songs into the set. The irrepressible and, of course, intoxicated Shane MacGowan -- whose mind has produced some beautiful lyrics capturing the pain, anger, and glory of the Irish experience -- was I guess in as top form as he can be nowadays. The outpouring of adoration for that brilliant boozer as he first stepped onto the stage was tremendous. And may he continue to vex Dead Pool players for years and years and years to come.

Here's a video from that night. Not my video. Found it on YouTube. I've been watching it over and over again, reliving the experience:



I didn't snap a photo from the front as I'd hoped, but I managed to snap some decent pictures. At least I hope they're decent. Have to see how they develop.

I felt a bit winded at one point of the show, but I didn't collapse. Nor did I get crushed amidst the exuberant mass of humanity. I didn't get Mufasa-ed. Nobody had to scrape Vince off their Nikes. I suffered no injury, although I did lose my newly-bought, Obama-themed winter cap.

I was surprised to see that I wasn't the only dark person at the concert; the other one seemed to have as wonderful a time as I did.

Once again, thanks to my friends. And, of course, thanks to The Pogues.